


Lost Birds

by arekeytaketour



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Canon Divergence, Court of Owls, Gen, League of Assassin!Jason, League of Assassins - Freeform, Past Torture, Talon!Dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:08:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arekeytaketour/pseuds/arekeytaketour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So that’s it!?  Jason as the ‘Good Little Soldier’?” I remembered my voice cracking as I pointed at the glass case containing Jason’s costume—my old Robin costume— “Do you have a case for me, too? I bet you have. Since you treat your partners like disposable items!”</p>
<p>Robin is dead, rotting in his grave at Wayne manor and Batman lost more than just one partner that night. Little does he know that after the fateful night, his first one dons the owl goggles and his second one the red helmet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost Birds

Everything changes since Jason died.

I received the news at the Titans Tower. I was nursing my injured leg with Kori when Danny approached us, saying about Jason being dead. Of course I didn’t believe it at first. I rushed to the computer, ignoring Kori who told me to calm down. With the password I attained from Bruce, I managed to bypass the Batcave database.

And there I saw it. The word ‘deceased’ was put under the name Robin. Jason Todd is dead.

The next thing I knew, I was already on my bike, driving like crazy to Wayne Manor.

I’ve never been this angry, even after what happened to Barbara and her father. It just wouldn’t add up in my mind, how reckless Bruce was for letting Joker had the upper hand once again on him. Using Barbara or Jim Gordon was something, but Jason? He’s just a kid, a teenager at best.

When I finally arrived at the Batcave and saw Bruce’s calm and collected demeanor, something inside me snapped.

_“Jason’s dead!”_ I said—yelled—to Bruce. I was so mad; I even threw my helmet on the concrete floor. I didn’t care if the helmet broke or the floor cracked. Bruce was too calm for someone who just lost a partner to his nemesis. It almost looked like he played a very bad prank on me and Jason would jump at me from behind. But I know Bruce and Alfred for a very long time. Death is not a laughing matter and must not be part of any jokes.

_“He died so the Joker could get at you, Bruce!”_ I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself and resisting the urge to punch Bruce in the face. _“Barbara’s paralyzed. **Now Jason**!”_

For the first time since my arrival, Bruce finally turned his cold back around and stared at me. However, he didn’t say anything and it angered me.

_“So that’s **it!?**_ _Jason as the ‘Good Little Soldier’?”_ I remembered my voice cracking as I pointed at the glass case containing Jason’s costume—my old Robin costume— “ _Do you have a case for **me** , too? I bet you have. Since you treat your partners like disposable items!”_

It happened a long time ago. Time passed and a new Robin was recruited. Well, actually, the kid volunteered himself to be Robin, saying that Batman will always need a Robin by his side. That kid—Timothy Drake—was right.

Since Jason passed away (I didn’t even get the invitation to the kid’s funeral), Bruce as Batman was more… violent than ever. It looked like he wreaked his anger to the criminals. And since Tim reprised the role of Robin and fought alongside the Dark Knight, everything was normal again.

Well… mostly.

I noticed that I haven’t forgiven anyone—including myself—when Joker attacked. He caused chaos inside the Slab, turning all the inmates into miniatures of himself and soon it spread throughout the entire Earth. And as usual, I was there to fight crime and save the world.

Or so I thought.

Joker showed me Robin’s torn yellow cape and something inside me snapped. I honestly didn’t hear anything he said. My eyes were glued to the cape and the boy who should be wearing it. In my mind, I could see Jason, suffering, in pain, and dying. I didn’t know what happened to me back then. Maybe Joker’s silly gas had gotten into me or I was too tired for bullshitting with this maniac. I should be worried about Tim—the current Robin at that time—and kept my head cool. Instead, I lunged at Joker. Blinded with rage, I laid punch after punch to this bastard. The sound of his cackles was the fuel to my fury, making the next punches even more severe. But behind that sickening laugh, I could hear Jason screaming in pain and begging for mercy, while horrible sounds of metal hitting flesh repeated over and over again. I didn’t see the Joker who laid bloody under me.

I saw the Joker who laughed maniacally, swinging crowbar to my brother’s helpless form. And I wanted to avenge Jason.

I wanted the Joker to die. 

I stopped when Batman and Robin—thank God, he still alive!—rushed into the cathedral. Like waking up from a trance, I looked down to my hands and Joker’s bloodied face. My whole body was trembling and my hands were shaking. I couldn’t believe what I’ve done.

Joker was not dead. I don’t know whether I should be grateful or mad. But mostly, if I’m being honest with myself, I regretted the fact that Joker is still alive. I should’ve punched him harder. Stabbed him, if I must. Make sure that cancer like him will not spread to society again.

But I didn’t do it because of some ridiculous morale codes. Stupid codes which will get another Jason die.

Since then, I realize that I’m beginning to lose faith in Batman, in my family, and in myself.

“I’ve been searching for you.”

I whip my head and see a man dressed in all black from head to toes. A pair of bronze goggles cover his eyes, mimicking a face of an owl, complete with a makeshift beak between the eyes. I can see him carrying dual swords, sheathed behind his back. A row of smaller blades with decorative handles crosses his torso. However, I don’t really think he needs those weapons since his fingers are already adorned with sharp bronze razors…

I stand up, trying to look tough after every shitty thing I’ve been through these past months. I take out my trusted escrima sticks out of their holsters and prepare for an attack. “Who are you?” I ask him.

The stranger dressed like an oversize owl jumps down. I resume my stance when he walks towards me, slowly and confidently. “I am not here to kill you. I am here to speak with you about your destiny.”

“Sorry. Never dated her before.”

“Horrible sense of humor, just like your father.”

How did he…

“Who are you, owl-man? How did you know my father?” I ask him again between gritted teeth. I don’t like the fact that he knows about my father. That means, he knows who I am and my friends and family are in danger. “One step closer and I’ll make sure you will never walk again!”

I can fell the stranger smirks under that ugly hood. Fortunately, he bids my warning good and stops. Instead of walking closer, he extends his talons fingers to me and says, “My name is William Cobb and I’m here for you, Richard gray son of Gotham.

“The Court of Owls needs you.”

 

**.**

**.**

 

Everything changes since I died.

Yep. I’ve been dead before, beaten into silly mumbling mess with a crowbar and then left to explode into million pieces in the middle of dessert.

Amazing story, isn’t it?

No, I was actually dying from the beating and the bombs did explode with my body mere inches away from it. I died, literally. Even the greatest detective of all time— _ahem_ Batman _ahem—_ had given testament of how horrible my death is. Of course, he was the first person who managed to get on the crime scene and saw for himself how much damage was caused from the explosion.

In Ethiopia I died as Robin, Batman’s sidekick.

But then I woke up in Gotham and didn’t remember anything. They said I was wandering the street of Gotham, dressed in a dirty suit. My hands were bleeding. Drying blood caked between my fingernails as well as dirt and splinters.

_“How did you do it? How can you still be alive?”_ I heard them asking me over and over again.

Well shit, I’m asking the same question too. ‘Cause last time I remember there was a psychotic bastard, swinging his dirty crowbar at me while laughing madly like it was a fucking joke. Well, everything is a joke for the Joker and busting a little kid’s spine to pieces probably his everyday routine.

Anyway.

I was brought to a huge mansion. Not Bruce’s of course. It belongs to al Ghul family and Talia was the one who greeted me at the front door. Heck, Talia was—and will always be—the only resident who welcomes me inside the house. Ra’s? He didn’t even want to see me in my face and every time we passed by in the hallway he had this disgusted look on his face. Maybe I reeked with mistake and death all over my body. Sometimes he does pay attention during my training, but purely out of curiosity and hopes to exploit my success of cheating death.

During my stay, I was like a zombie, Talia said. Blank face, eyes empty, and unresponsive except when provoked in an attack. I slain all the ninjas they sent at me. And I didn’t even break a sweat. However, I was still an empty shell. A walking dead with a capability of kicking ass. When I think about it, that was badass yet creepy. And then, Talia decided to take matters into her own hand.

She dunked me into the Lazarus Pit.

I emerged as a new man with a new purpose. Revenge. To both Batman and Joker.

Ra’s was not please when he found out about me swimming in his precious Lazarus Pit. He was furious and I don’t give a single fuck about the old man. Instead, I was following the lead given by Talia to be a better man. A better fighter that someday will put Batman on a permanent retirement and Joker in a grave.

However, Talia never gave me permission to go back to Gotham. In its place, she brought me to an ancient city underground called ‘Eth Alth’eban and dubbed me as the leader to her League of Assassins.

_“I don’t need your fight club, Talia.”_ I said as we descended deeper into the city. She gave me a cold shoulder and continued with the silent treatment. “ _You’ve trained me well and I’m ready to go back! I **need** to go back!”_

_“And you will, Jason.”_ She said calmly. _“The League will help you achieve your goal. Your revenge.”_

_“I’m capable of doing it myself, thank you, but no.”_

_“Here, you will finish your training and become more powerful than Batman. You will become stronger than he is and defeat him. Not now, but soon, Jason.”_

_“How soon?”_

_“Depends on how stubborn you are,”_ She turned her head and looked me from the corner of her eye. With the same calm and composure, she continued, “ _and your endurance.”_

That fucking training took me years to finish and by the end of it I became the leader for Talia’s band of assassins. With my new title, I leave my previous identity and embrace the future. Robin is dead. I left him rotting in the grave of Wayne’s backyard.

I am Red Hood. The leader of League of Assassins.

 

**.**

**.**

 

“They send who to what?”

Today is peaceful in ‘Eth Alth’eban. The market is busy as always, selling poisonous goods. Every single corner is still as dangerous as ever. Shiva’s bat monsters are training not far from where I am standing. Sparing with deadly weapons except guns. When one of them spots me on the balcony, it bows in respect and soon the others follow. It is good to know that every living being in this city is scared of me.

Talia al Ghul. A beautiful woman with flowing dark hair cascading to her waist. She closes her eyes and repeats the news once again. “The Court of Owls has sent Talon to kill you, Jason.” Surprisingly, she speaks a death threat to his adopted son with rather collected attitude.

I scoff and wave my hand easily. My eyes fix to the training ground below me. I take a glance to market before turning my back. “Court of Owls is a myth. A bed time story in generations to scare little kids and encourage them to do goods. To obey their parents. Besides, if this mythical court exists, do you really think anyone can kill me?”

“The Court exists, Jason.” She says, confidently. “They even got Batman once. Almost drove him mad.”

That’s new. Maybe I shouldn’t underestimate these guys.

“They already sent you a Talon.” My brows furrow in confusion and before I open my mouth, Talia quickly adds, “Their personal assassin and bodyguard. People said that Talon never misses their preys and you are their next meal. Their little mouse for fun hunt in the night.”

I roll my eyes and smile, amused. Both to the awful allegory of owl’s hunting nature and the idea of killing me. I’ve fought assassins from all over the world and came out as the champion every time. This Talon probably will end up just like its predecessors: dead.

“Well,” I walk up to my red helmet and pick it up. “Maybe it’s time for me to visit Gotham and say hello to Talon myself. And if I lucky, the court will probably invite me to their lovely dinner.”

“With your head as their center piece, possibly.”

Now this is funny. Sure, Talia has taken care of me for a long time and this is the first time I see her… worried. It’s a tiny, very small hint of anxiety, but it exists nonetheless. Her sudden concern of my well-being is both endearing and… frightening. Perhaps Talon is that dangerous. Perhaps I should be nervous.

Unfortunately, barricading and cowering in the corner of my bedroom like some scared kitty is not me. I’ll bite back—ten times more viciously—if you attack me. I never back down from any challenges. This Court of Owls has made enemy with the wrong person.

“Don’t worry, Talia. You know that Death hate me personally. She won’t even welcome me after the Joker incident.” I put my Red Hood helmet on and walk towards the door. “I’m going to Gotham for a hunt. And when I return, we will have dinner with a dead Talon on our table. Or what’s left of it.”

 

**.**

**.**

 

Gotham hasn’t changed a bit and the number of criminals is increasing every day. Batman still holds on to his ‘no-killing’ morale codes, I guess. Wrong move, B. Criminals like the Joker deserve to die. They must die for a better future. Who am I kidding. Bruce won’t even kill Joker after what he did to me, let alone killing for the sake of strangers in the dark alleys of Gotham.

Then again, I’m not his favorite son. The replacement—scrawny kid with brain—is probably Batman’s most favorite. He’s the Robin after all since I died. I bet Batman will go on rampage if Joker killed that babybird. Him, or Grayson.

Grayson… From all Batman’s associates, Dick Grayson is tolerable, although a bit loud and talk a lot. He’s nice, kind and thoughtful, always taking care of others. From all the Robins I know (that includes the Replacement and Bruce fucked up son, Damian) Dick is the most obedient. He follows on Bruce's steps precisely and thus making him awfully similar with daddy bat. However, Dick never fakes anything. He speaks the truth and very straight forward and that trait makes him a better person than Bruce.

Maybe that’s why I kinda idolized him back during my adolescence day as Robin. His charm is his honesty and that drew me closer to him. He was my brother and sometimes a good friend too.

Wonder what he’s doing right now. Last time I heard Dick is flying solo, got his own gig as Nightwing. But that was years ago and I haven’t heard anything about him in the news. Maybe he took an early retirement after what happened between him and Blockbuster at Blüdhaven.

Perhaps I should pay Dick a visit.

“There you are.”

I spin around and look up. There, perched on the stone gargoyle is my rival. To be honest, I imagined someone a bit bulkier and heavier when I heard about Talon. This skinny Talon is a pleasant surprise from the Court of Owls, because I can beat this skinny asshole to death not even the Lazarus Pit can resurrect him.

The Talon jumps down and walks up to me. Oh, boy. He’s even shorter than me. This is going to be so fun. “I heard you are looking for me. So I decided to come here and see you personally.” I take a step closer and fold my hands behind my back. This Talon is slender, yet firm with muscles on the right places. “But I think there must be some kind of misunderstanding here. I heard Talon—the guy I have appointment with—is a big, all muscles, and gruffly looking fellow. Not… you.”

My taunt is not affecting the Talon. He just stands there, silently, while his eyes behind those ugly goggles—is that supposed to be imitating an owl’s eyes and beak?—stare intensely. If he doesn’t keep his gaze away, a hole will appear between my eyes...

“Anyway,” I take a step back and carefully unclasping my guns. I gently take them out of their holsters and hold it up. “A date is a date. I’m here now. So, what do you need from me?”

The Talon seems to catch my meaning. He too takes out his weapons—a katana and a small blade—and starts to take his battle stance. “Red Hood,” he says, “The Court of Owls has sentenced you to die.”

And it begins.

He swings his sword so fast, it almost slices me in half. I parry to his right and quickly return the favor with two shots from my gun. Unfortunately, this little bastard has some sick reflexes and easily dodges the bullets. He jumps to the edge of the rooftop and then suddenly makes this sick back flips while throwing a set of knives to me.

It seems what he lacks in size is paid off with an extremely flexible body.

I decide that fighting Talon in close combat is stupid. So I run to make a fair distance between us. He quickly joins me for a nice run across Gotham’s skyscrapers. Talia was right about everything. About the existence of the fabled Court of Owls as well as her uneasiness about this Talon business.

I hate it when someone was right and I’m not…

We jump from buildings to buildings and constantly attacking each other. Me with guns and bullets, him with knives. Geez, how many knives does this guy have with him? Surely he will run out of knives sooner or later, but… when?? It’s like he has an unlimited supply of knives hidden under that skin tight costume.

Man, that costume is distracting…

The gush of wind gives me a warning signal. I hurriedly lower myself, avoiding a knife from puncturing a new breathing hole on my neck. The Talon is getting closer and I’m almost run out of bullets. Well, I think both of us have run out of long range weapons. The Talon hasn’t thrown another set of knives towards me after a few minutes.

“It’s a lovely night with you, babe.” I say and then shoot the last round to the Talon. As usual, he effortlessly avoids my attack and I waste another precious bullet. “But I’m afraid we have to end it right here. Our relationship has been… exhausting. We barely talk and we fight a lot. Maybe it’s time for us to break up.”

I hear a sound of fabric rustling behind me and see Talon, already high in the air with his katana, ready to land the final blow. I swerve to the side, barely escaping his attack and continue to run. This guy is impossible. Even though the Talon is smaller and more slender than anyone I have fought, he is the toughest battle ever. We have running for an hour now and he never breaks a sweat or halts to catch his breath.

Besides, the way he jumps and swings his sword kind of familiar…

I am too caught up in my own thoughts and fail to see Talon’s next attack. Turns out he takes a detour and precedes me to the next building. He jumps and hits me hard on my Red Hood helmet. His katana breaks the helmet and damages the eye slits, making me partially blind. Thankfully, my helmet is thick as I am and thus saving my head.

Driven by shock, I lash and hit something. From the sound of cracking glass, I manage to land a punch on his face and break his ugly goggles. With my last bullet, I take a blind aim to my left and shot. Another cracking noise and growls of discomfort are enough for me to buy some time. I pull out my grappling hook. Behind me, the Talon is cursing and apparently taking off his damaged mask.

I fly to another building, almost crashing through the windows. Blindly, I press the release button and discard the broken helmet. Damn him. My Red Hood helmet is beyond repair. The visor is completely broken and the whole helmet splits into two when I take it off.

Before I can catch my breath, I hear footsteps coming from behind me. Fuck. I don’t wear my domino mask under this helmet. This fucker will see my face.

Well, he’s going down anyway. Showing my face to corpse won’t hurt me, right?

“…Jason?”

What? How did he—

Wait a minute. That voice… isn’t that…

Slowly, I turn my back and stand facing the Talon. If I still have my helmet right now, I will think that this is some kind of malfunction. A hallucination. This can’t be true…

“Grayson…”

**.**

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> This my second try after years of not writing fan-fictions. Hopefully you guys enjoy reading this! Special thanks to ry0kiku who helped me a lot with this work :)


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